If you were to actually travel around schools and universities

Hear, O seekers of wisdom, the words of Richard Dawkins, who spoke thus: “If you were to actually travel around schools and universities and listen in on lectures about evolution, you might find a fairly substantial fraction of young people, without knowing what it is they disapprove of, think they disapprove of it, because they've been brought up to.” These words, though born in the halls of modern debate, resound with the eternal struggle between tradition and inquiry, between blind inheritance and enlightened understanding.

In these words lies a warning: that many are taught to disapprove of ideas they do not even comprehend. They inherit suspicion as if it were treasure, without examining whether it is truth or falsehood. Such disapproval is not born of reason, but of habit, planted like a seed in the soil of youth. The young carry it unknowingly, repeating what was given to them, mistaking repetition for knowledge. Dawkins here reminds us that ignorance dressed in conviction is a dangerous garb, for it deceives both the wearer and those who hear them.

The subject of evolution is but the stage upon which this greater truth is revealed. For in every age there are ideas—whether of science, philosophy, or governance—that meet resistance not because they are false, but because they challenge the comfortable traditions of the past. Once, it was the claim that the earth moves around the sun; once, it was the notion that all men might govern themselves rather than bow to kings. Each new truth, when first spoken, was met with suspicion, because men had been brought up to believe otherwise. Thus history itself echoes Dawkins’ observation.

Consider, O listener, the tale of Galileo Galilei, who looked through his telescope and saw moons orbiting Jupiter. This sight should have filled the world with awe. Yet many refused to look, for they had been brought up to believe that all celestial bodies circled the earth. They disapproved of his findings, not because they understood them and found them flawed, but because they had inherited the habit of disbelief. Galileo was condemned, not for error, but for truth that offended tradition. His fate is the very embodiment of Dawkins’ words.

The meaning of this teaching is clear: beware of disapproval without understanding. To reject an idea without first examining it is to close the door to wisdom. True knowledge requires humility, the willingness to listen, to study, to weigh evidence even if it troubles one’s inherited beliefs. Without this, men become guardians of ignorance, passing on chains to their children, who will wear them without knowing why.

The lesson for you, O child of tomorrow, is to test all things. When you encounter a claim, whether in school, in books, in politics, or in faith, ask yourself: do I disapprove because I understand and disagree, or because I was told to disapprove? Let reason, not inheritance, be your guide. For the mind that questions grows strong, while the mind that obeys blindly grows brittle.

Practical action follows: read beyond what you were taught. Listen even to those with whom you think you disagree, and seek to understand before you judge. If you find truth in their words, embrace it. If you find error, let your disapproval be the fruit of reason, not the seed of prejudice. In this way, you honor both tradition and truth, for you keep what is worthy and cast away what is not.

Therefore, remember the wisdom of Dawkins: disapproval without knowledge is but an echo, while understanding births true discernment. Be not an echo, but a voice. Be not bound by what you were merely brought up to believe, but walk boldly into the light of understanding, and in so doing, you will break the chain of unthinking inheritance and set your mind free.